


Appetite

by Amythe3lder



Series: Sense [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Asperger's Syndrome, Autism, Eating Disorders, F/M, Food Issues, Gen, Greg Does His Research, M/M, Multi, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2015-06-20
Packaged: 2018-04-05 06:02:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4168695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amythe3lder/pseuds/Amythe3lder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><strong>Prompt: Stomach</strong><br/>It wasn't that he was hungry, not especially. It was that he was never full.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Appetite

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place around 21 of HS, but should stand alone with minimal wobbling. Ingredients include some possible triggers for eating disorders, take care!
> 
> Still a little bit of your taste in my mouth  
> Still a little bit of you laced with my doubt  
> Still a little hard to say what's going on  
> "Cannonball"-Damien Rice

It ought to have been easy for Mycroft to avoid food altogether. His little brother had employed this method with much success (if one could call it that), though there were obvious issues involved. Sherlock’s aversion to eating stemmed from his insistence that food slowed him down, more accurately, that he had to stop completely to partake. Mycroft remembered having to collect the boy from whatever activity had captured his fascination and maneuver him to table, sometimes bodily. John Watson's ability to cajole him was another reason Mycroft had breathed a sigh of relief when the doctor moved in. Now that Sherlock had a baby to model good habits for, he was making an effort on his own, with some earlier prodding from John.

Mycroft had no similar concerns, and privately suspected his own troubles had done his younger sibling no favours but had instead given him a fine example of the wrong way to go about things. Sherlock himself certainly had noticed, and seemed to take pride in never having succumbed to what he viewed as weakness.

Of course, they both knew what it really was.

Though tastes were delightful in their own right, textures were even more compelling, and he could admit to purposefully avoiding foods that didn’t feel right. Cauliflower bothered him, rubbery between his teeth and too bland to be worth the offense, though he had once chopped it fine enough in a processor that he hadn’t minded it so much. The things he liked best were fluffy and smooth and required little chewing, which gave credence to the theory that he had a sweet tooth. It wasn’t precisely untrue, after all, but cakes were so high up on the list of consumables that he found acceptable more because of the softness of starch than the amount of sugar. It led to the same outcome, and Mycroft had earned the descriptor ‘portly’ before he’d made it to the far side of adolescence. It wasn't that he was hungry, not especially. It was that he was never full. If there was food, he would eat it simply for the oral stimulation. He disliked leaving any behind for later on the grounds that it seemed untidy, like doing something partway. He appreciated the irony of having a disorder rooted in the need for order.

His maladaptive behaviors took him through a series of diets to reach a healthy weight, but the inherent rigidity of the restrictions meant he felt very anxious when he was unable to stick to his plan for whatever reason. As most of the medical community was quick to point out, the things Mycroft wanted were not really good for him, so he spent a fair number of meals wishing and pretending. He discovered that portioning things out beforehand helped tremendously, but sometimes this wasn’t possible. Eating was a social ritual, and so synonymous with dating that it had practically become a euphemism.

He was usually able to resist temptation on his own, but he had two romantic interests with some skill in the kitchen. Resistance had got very difficult. Especially when Molly preferred his facilities for baking biscuits and Gregory insisted on snacking any time they were stationary. The only consolation was that Greg was rarely still for long, unless the telly was on. Which it was.

They were watching some documentary on a serial killer when it happened: Greg reached for popcorn and drew back with naught but kernels. He made a noise of surprise and they both glanced down at the bowl between them, and Mycroft knew instantly that he was to blame. He’d been caught up in the odd squishy feel and the buttery salt on his tongue, and hadn’t noticed he was steadily munching through the treat, one piece at a time. He grimaced and thrust the empty dish toward his sweetheart with an apology, disgusted with himself.

Gregory (saint that he was) shrugged it off easily. "Are you still hungry, ducks?"

"I don't know," he replied, then realised that that had been the wrong thing to say when the inspector squinted at him laid a hand on his knee.

"You don’t, or you think you've had too much already?" he asked, eyes understanding, and Mycroft felt too warm.

"Both, perhaps." He resisted the urge to rub a hand over the back of his neck. He relented. Greg had already uncovered enough about him that this would slot neatly into his broader picture. So he explained.

When he was done, they were quiet for a moment before his perceptive darling spoke. "Is this to do with your other-"

"Neuroatypicalities." He swallowed. "It’s likely, yes."

"It’s only popcorn, yeah? It's mostly air."

Mycroft muttered darkly, "It adds up."

"Baby," Greg chuckled, lightly pinching the skin of his waist, "it'd have to multiply as well to make much difference."

Mycroft complained jokingly that between him and Molly forever trying to feed him up, he’d gained two pounds. Greg's predictable (and lovely) response was to give him a cheeky wink and suggest that they think up ways to work off the added weight. Gregory leaned over and kissed him, and he couldn’t quite see the appeal of any other flavour.

**Author's Note:**

> For Rare Ship Bingo! Come check [the thing](http://sherlockrareship.tumblr.com/) out on tumblr, if you tumbl.


End file.
